She attempted to extract some sense from the strange words. At the bottom of the last sheet she deciphered, Felipe Martinez’ name under the notorial acknowledgment. All at once in scanning certain lines she came on names that were plain enough––Sorenson, Vorse, Burkhardt, Gordon. The last must mean Judge Gordon. 196 Then presently she found two more names that excited her curiosity––James Dent’s and Joseph Weir’s.
Springing to her feet she stared at the sheets in her hand. For some reason or other her blood was beating with an odd sensation of impending discovery.
“Why––why–––” she stammered. “Why, those are the men father told about being shot, and him looking on as a boy! This is a queer paper! I wish he were here.”
Possession of it gave her a feeling of uneasiness. Her father had warned her never to speak of the matter to any one––and here was something about it in writing, or so she guessed. He had said Sorenson and the other men would kill him at once if they learned he had been a witness. That meant they would kill her too if they found out that she not only knew about their crime but had this paper as well.
She looked about. Finally she retied the document in a tea-towel, tight and secure, and buried it deep in the flour barrel. They would not think of looking in the flour. But she went to the door just the same and gazed anxiously down the canyon as if enemies might put their heads in sight that very minute.
CHAPTER XX
ANXIETIES
“My dear doctor, your talents are wasted in San Mateo. They should be employed in the larger field of diplomacy,” said Steele Weir, when on his arrival from Terry Creek he was apprised of what had occurred during his absence.